


Light Box

by WrithingBeneathYou



Category: Naruto
Genre: Domestic Bickering, Humor, M/M, a reluctant touch of fluff lol, pin-up AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27535744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrithingBeneathYou/pseuds/WrithingBeneathYou
Summary: And here Izuna thought his day off from duties in the Tower couldn’t get any better.(Written for the "Uchiha do it Better!" calendar raffle.)
Relationships: Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Izuna
Comments: 8
Kudos: 106





	Light Box

**Author's Note:**

> This bit of fun was written in honor of the "Uchiha do it Better!" calendar raffle on Tumblr!

“What is this?”

Izuna glances up from his tea and takes a delicate sip. It’s hot, over-steeped, and a touch too bitter—just like the monument of Senju efficiency looming over his chabudai. 

“A calendar,” he drawls, enjoying the brief flicker of annoyance in Tobirama’s chakra. And here he thought his day off from duties in the Tower couldn’t get any better. Fighting back a grin, he blows ripples into the surface of his tea and takes another sip in punctuation.

“I know it’s a calendar,” Tobirama intones, all flared nostrils and simmering rage. He holds up a well-used copy, allowing the calendar to flop open to what he must believe is proof of some heinous wrongdoing. The paper settles on Kagami’s spread in silent condemnation.

A gaping neckline and bare legs on display in the breeze—Mikoto was so proud of being able to capture such a candid shot. Lovely woman, that one. Always slipping from the shadows with camera in-hand and an eye for aesthetic opportunity. Great cover material, too.

“What. Is. This?” Tobirama snarls, capturing Izuna’s wandering attention. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever heard a wolf snap with as many teeth as Tobirama put into those three words. The extent to which he’s working himself up over pin-up staging is both fascinating and hilarious in equal measure.

“You’ll have to ask better questions if you want better answers,” Izuna points out, enjoying how Tobirama stubbornly holds his gaze, not a new development, but a nice one. 

The table jolts as Tobirama slams his palms down on it, calendar and all. Madara’s favorite tea tray rattles ominously close to the edge and a spare tea cup clinks along the kettle’s edge before tipping onto its side. Ever the gentleman, Tobirama absently rights it and ushers the tray away from any chance of a precipitous drop to the tatami mats.

Good boy. Izuna won’t have to ban him from their futon. He grins at the imagining, tempted to stir the pot regardless.

“Izuna.”

“Koibito,” Izuna drawls.

“Why does Kagami have my pelt?”

Because Uchiha are better at obfuscation than any other clan—be it tactics or nudes, their prowess knows no equal. That and the fact that Tousan is a vicious, unrelenting jack ass when he has an idea and flat out bullied Kagami into stealing the stupid thing from the Senju’s launderers.

Izuna digs his teeth into his lower lip to keep from smiling too honestly.

“He was helping with your laundry,” he replies, setting down his cup to take the one still loosely cradled in Tobirama’s hand. With a practiced ease—slow and artful—Izuna fills it and offers it back. “Such a good, wholesome man. He’ll make a great house husband for someone, I’m sure.” 

Tobirama inhales sharply, but seems to deflate once the warm aroma of his favorite tea registers.

“Fine,” he says, taking a sip of the over-steeped travesty he prefers, and cradling it between his palms. “But that doesn’t explain why Hikaku is sitting on it.”

Ah, sweet September. 

“The engawa was hard and the frost was just starting to set in. Poor thing needed something soft to keep his bottom warm while Tousan fussed with the lighting.” He reaches across the table to trace one of the upraised scars along Tobirama’s forearm, up over the swell of muscle, and back down to settle on the sturdy bones of his wrist.

How telling that the man makes space to allow for Izuna’s fingers to slip into the warmth between his hand and tea cup. Izuna allows himself to revel in the softness for just a moment before leaning forward over the table, then half climbing over it to share breath.

Tobirama’s eyes narrow when there’s no immediate kiss to be had.

“Huh. Come to think of it, I can’t remember if we got Hikaku’s shot before or after laundry day,” Izuna whispers.

And there it is, the sudden conflagration Izuna has always been so drawn to.

“I’m going to burn it,” Tobirama snaps, eyes flashing red as any Uchiha’s, chakra flaring in kind.

Izuna can’t help it, he laughs. It’s a full-bodied joy he’s found here in this village their brothers have managed not to fuck up entirely. “In effigy to the ongoing fruits of your sexual awakening, I'm sure," he finally forces out through his merriment.

Sobering just enough to steal a chaste peck, he slides back to his side of the table. 

“You owe me a pelt,” Tobirama intones after a moment of silence. 

“You owe me a finder’s fee.”

Tobirama huffs, but the tell-tale twitch at the corner of his lips betrays him.


End file.
